a shuffle of feet, and through curtains at the back of the room there entered a tall old woman, bent but strong, who at the sight of Archer spread apart her clumsy hands in surprise.
"Barbara," said her master, "please bring us something to eat and drink."
When the old woman had disappeared, the girl looked in again at the door of the hall, mystically bright once more above the candle flame.
"Good-night to you both," she called. Once more the cheeriness of her voice was troubled. "I'll show you about the island in the morning, Mr. Archer. You will like it, I hope." She stood for a moment undecided, then slowly went up the stairs, a shining figure against the brown panels.
Archer, replying with some commonplace, was conscious that she had stolen the brightness from the room. Though hungry after his wandering, he hardly noticed what the old servant left on the table before him. While he nibbled at something, and slowly drank the whiskey-and-water that Mr. Powell
